


Different Tastes

by chronicopheliac



Category: Hannibal (TV), Hannibal Lecter Series - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom Will, Forced Sex Roleplay, Kink Meme, Kink Negotiation, Light Bondage, M/M, Post-Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb, Post-Season/Series 03, Pre-negotiated Non-con, Roleplay, Rough Sex, Top Hannibal, Tumblr Prompt, safe word
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-16
Updated: 2016-07-16
Packaged: 2018-07-24 10:36:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7504969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chronicopheliac/pseuds/chronicopheliac
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Did you think you could escape me, Will?” Hannibal’s voice is low and hoarse as he works on binding Will’s ankles. Will never heard Hannibal sound that way before. Arousal twists and coils low in Will’s belly, he can feel the pressure of his growing cock against the leather, dragging over the material with a delicious blend of pleasure and pain as it catches on his skin.</p><p>Words are difficult to get out. “I had to try.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Different Tastes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [withinmelove](https://archiveofourown.org/users/withinmelove/gifts).



> Based on the kink meme prompt "Pretend you don't want it."
> 
> Please do pay attention to the tags! While this is pre-negotiated, I still don't want anyone to feel uncomfortable!
> 
> The format of this fic was inspired by (and used with their permission) [The Game by somniari](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2816771), [midwintersong](http://midwintersong.tumblr.com) on Tumblr! It's an Adoribull fic, and it's FANTASTIC, if you're into Dragon Age, Dorian Pavus and The Iron Bull. I highly recommend reading it either way!

A weight presses down on Will’s back, jarring him awake. There is no room to struggle, but he tries anyway, wriggling with all his might against what feels like a knee in his back. All of his might doesn’t amount to much; he feels weak - drugged.

Beneath him the surface is hard. Not a bed. He tries to remember where he is, how he got there. In his mind he grasps at a dozen images as they flit by, and sees Hannibal’s face. His voice.

_Hannibal_

He tries again to fight, but his arms and legs refuse to cooperate, and then his wrists are bound and he’s dragged upward, back against Hannibal’s chest. He feels Hannibal’s breath tickling his ear and Will turns his head away, but a forceful hand turns it back and then Hannibal’s lips are brushing along the shell of his ear.

 

_“I just don’t understand why you’re pussyfooting around. I’m not going to break, Hannibal.”_

_“Of course not.”_

_Will wasn’t convinced. “Then why do you keep treating me like I will?”_

_The question seemed to catch Hannibal off guard, and he took a moment to consider his response. “I don’t want to do anything that might… jeopardize our current situation.”_

_“You can say_ relationship _, Hannibal. We’re in a fucking relationship. That’s what this is, isn’t it? Wish I could say it was a_ fucking _relationship but let’s be honest, we haven’t really fucked.”_

 

Will arches back in an attempt to loosen Hannibal’s hold on him. He manages to knock the back of his head against Hannibal’s face, and they both stagger. Seeing his opportunity, Will makes a run for it, though it’s more of an awkward hobble with his arms bound and whatever drug Hannibal had used still coursing through his veins.

It looks like he’s in a cellar of some kind, with gleaming metal fixtures all around - an industrial sink, a table, and another table with a… saw?

Hannibal’s cellar.

Will’s stomach lurches, he feels cold all over. What does Hannibal mean to do? What would he have done before, had Hannibal allowed the monster within to take over? Part of Will wants this game to end, the part that trembles with fear and rejects the beast inside - Hannibal’s and his own. But the other part stirs with interest, an electric current going straight down to his cock.

He makes it to the door but he hesitates, and then Hannibal is on him again, dragging him back into the center of the room where there is a large, leather-covered sawhorse. Hannibal forces Will to bend over it lengthwise, unbinding his wrists just long enough to bring them up to one end of the sawhorse to fasten the rope to some rings. If Will struggles now, all he might accomplish is tipping the sawhorse over and hurting himself.

“Did you think you could escape me, Will?” Hannibal’s voice is low and hoarse as he works on binding Will’s ankles. Will never heard Hannibal sound that way before. Arousal twists and coils low in Will’s belly, he can feel the pressure of his growing cock against the leather, dragging over the material with a delicious blend of pleasure and pain as it catches on his skin.

Words are difficult to get out. “I had to try.”

“Yes, I suppose you did.” Hannibal punctuates his words with a hard slap to Will’s ass, just where the curve meets his thigh. Will cries out, his whole body straining against the ropes. “Fortunately, you are in no position to try again.”

 

_“Will, please.”_

_“No, if anything we’ve been _making love_. Not that I’m complaining... I’m not.” Will scratched at the scar on his face, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. “But sometimes that’s not what I… what I need. I just want something rough and dirty, you know?”_

_Hannibal nodded, but Will suspected that he still wasn’t convinced._

_“Okay. How about this.” Will took Hannibal’s hands between his own, running his thumbs over Hannibal’s knuckles. “Maybe we could try a role play… thing.”_

_All Will got from Hannibal was a raised eyebrow and a downturned mouth. He tried elaborating._

 

“Hannibal, _stop. Please._.” The anxious, fearful tone to Will’s voice is humiliating. All of his nerves are alight with the combination of his unease and desire, his whole body feels too hot with his arousal and he can’t stop his muscles from shaking under the strain. “I’ll do anything else, just _not this_.”

Will reminds himself that this is what he wanted. What he still wants.

“You wanted this,” Hannibal says, almost hissing the words in Will’s ear. The cruelty in Hannibal’s voice is more familiar, and Will finds himself trying to almost lean into it physically. As though he could anchor himself in it somehow.

But he doesn’t give in. “N-no,” Will says, which earns him another hard slap before Hannibal’s fingers tangle into his hair, pulling without mercy to expose Will’s throat. The stretch in his neck makes Will gasp in pain, and an irrational thought makes its way to the forefront of his mind - he hopes in that moment that Hannibal finds him beautiful.

 

_“You’re the one who always told me I wasn’t broken. How proud you were that I didn’t break. No matter what you did, I never-- Well. After all that happened, I’m still here. I’m with you. Maybe it would help you, both of us actually, if we tried to… deal with how things were between us before. When I was still trying to reject you. You can’t tell me you never thought of forcing me to accept you.”_

_“I’ve done no such thing.” Hannibal almost looked offended. Hurt, even._

_Will still pressed on. “I said you thought about it, not that you did it. But what if you had? You’re not always so soft-hearted, Hannibal. We both know that. There’s no way we could keep going as we are without… violence. You’ve been holding back, I know you are.” He slid off his chair to kneel in front of Hannibal, still holding onto his hands._

_“_ You’re beautiful like this, Will,” Hannibal says, stroking one hand down the centre of Will’s back. “I can see the tension in your form. The fight has not gone from you, yet.”

Will feels something cold trickle down his lower back, between his cheeks, and then Hannibal’s fingers sliding over his hole with a teasing pressure, then a little harder, breaching the muscle with practiced ease. Writhing with all his strength, Will tries to arch away from the touch.

“I’ll always fight you,” he grits out, squeezing his eyes shut.

“I sincerely hope you do. You’re a most magnificent beast, the way you struggle against your bonds. It seems a shame to limit such splendid brutality. Perhaps you would like to revenge yourself on your captor?”

A pause, as Hannibal explores the expanse of Will’s exposed flesh, smoothing his hands over Will’s backside and thighs. One hand comes to rest between Will’s legs, cupping his balls, while the other returns to fingering Will open, adding a second digit. Will grunted with effort, gasping a little at the feeling of the rope cutting into his wrists and ankles.

“Please stop.”

There is only silence for a long moment, and then Hannibal’s fingers are plucking at the ropes around Will’s ankles, and then at his wrists. Will is free.

Hannibal is giving him another chance.

Will takes it.

He rolls off the sawhorse and stumbles, his limbs sore and aching, heading once more for the door but he’s not fast enough. Hannibal tackles him to the ground, maneuvering Will to his back, one hand anchoring Will’s wrists above his head, the other pressing down against Will’s throat.

The weight of Hannibal’s body makes it difficult to move, but Will thrusts up with as much strength as he can muster, unsteadying Hannibal’s posture over him. They roll, Hannibal’s hand still on Will’s throat, tightening with crushing force. Will can’t breathe, and he’s exhausted already, but still he fights, straddling Hannibal’s waist and using his own weight to try and push down on Hannibal’s throat, even though it increases the pressure on his own.

Again they roll as Hannibal shifts to throw Will off balance and Will is beneath him once more. If Will wasn’t already struggling for air, feeling the sheer power in Hannibal would knock the wind right out of him. With his hands still free, Will tries scratching at Hannibal’s back and shoulders, but that only draws a low growl from Hannibal as he imposes himself between Will’s legs, the fabric of his trousers almost burning against Will’s skin with the friction.

Hannibal’s pupils are blown wide with lust, and Will can feel the hard thrust of Hannibal’s erection against his own ass. Hannibal eases off Will’s throat just enough to let him gasp for air.

_“I don’t want you to hold back, Hannibal. If you can’t be yourself with me now... Let’s try it, at least. I could act like I’m still fighting you. Like I haven’t accepted this. I could--”_

_“Pretend you don’t want it,” Hannibal said. He pulled his hands from Will’s grip to brace himself on Will’s shoulders, leaning forward to touch their foreheads together. “You truly want the monster as well?”_

“Yes.”

_“Very well. If I am to do this… ‘roleplay’, as you describe it, I believe it will be more effective if it… comes as a surprise to you.”_

_Will licked his lips, looking up at Hannibal. “Authenticity,” he said, rising to straddle Hannibal’s lap. He couldn’t help smiling at the hitch in Hannibal’s breath, the adoration in Hannibal’s eyes that he made no attempt to hide as he gazed up at Will._

_“Indeed.”_

_“And you should think of a word.”_

_Will kissed him, deep and slow, draping his arms around Hannibal’s shoulders. “I won’t need it.”_

_“Indulge me, then.”_

_After taking a moment to mull it over, Will grinned. “All right. Cheeseburger.”_

_Hannibal sighed._

 

“N-n--” Will tries to protest, but he’s interrupted by Hannibal’s mouth crushing against his own, teeth clashing painfully together. He tastes blood.

“You are an exquisite creature, Will, and you could be so much more if you would just give in.”

Hannibal uses one hand to restrain Will’s wrists above his head again while using the other to unfasten his own trousers, releasing his leaking cock. The sight of Hannibal’s cock, thick and dripping, makes Will forget his game just for a moment. He arches up wantonly to seek contact with some part of Hannibal’s skin.

Feeling Hannibal positioning himself at Will’s entrance jars him back to his design. With renewed vigor, Will bucks and twists his hips to dislodge Hannibal somehow, but he is held fast and without warning, Hannibal is inside him in one ruthless thrust.

Will cries out as Hannibal fucks him, more out of shock than pain, and Hannibal is ramming into him without inhibition at last. Wrapping his arms and legs around Hannibal, Will holds onto him tightly, relishing the burn of Hannibal’s cock moving in and out of him.

“Is this what you wanted, Will?”

Will nods against Hannibal’s neck, shuddering with the need to be filled by more, harder, faster.

It’s as though Hannibal can read Will’s thoughts. Each violent snap of Hannibal’s hips as he drives his cock deeper is the sweetest torture, and before he knows it Will is coming untouched, his release surging up over his own chest and belly. There is some satisfaction in getting some on Hannibal’s suit as well, but Will doesn’t have the energy to laugh.

Even as Will’s limbs are weary and collapse back onto the ground, Hannibal continues pounding into him, causing Will to whimper with exhaustion and overstimulation. Until Hannibal comes at last, slowing his thrusts to a few jerky movements, and the heat of Hannibal’s release spilling out of Will’s ass makes Will sigh with contentment.

The ache would last for several days, and Will relishes the thought. Every step, every movement would remind him that Hannibal was his.

Hannibal collapses on top of him, letting himself slip out of Will’s ass as his cock softens. Gathering Will up into his arms, he dots tender kisses over Will’s face, tugging gently at Will’s lower lip. Will can only huff out a soft chuckle, loose-limbed and tired as he is.

“You’re ruining it,” Will says, though he turns his face to return a kiss, smiling.

“Cheeseburger,” Hannibal says, nuzzling into Will’s neck.

“You are the biggest fucking sap.”

Hannibal doesn’t disagree.

**Author's Note:**

> [Come flail about Hannigram with me on Tumblr!](http://chronicopheliac.tumblr.com/)


End file.
